


I Love My Truck

by YanzaDracan



Category: Actor RPF, Kane (Band)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Public Sex, Relationship(s), Rough Sex, Sexual Humor, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8850130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanzaDracan/pseuds/YanzaDracan
Summary: Prompt: think happy porny c/s thoughts, boys making out in cars, steamy windows, c straddling s lap, s growly 'take me home cowboyWritten in 2012





	

I love my truck. Yeah I have and have had cars, but the one vehicle I’m never without is a full size pickup truck. It has nothing to do with where I’m from, or how I was raised, or any of the stereotypes. It’s all about room and versatility—room for hauling things and friends, and their things, dogs, kids, and…ROOM.

KANE

It’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning, and I’m sittin’ at the arrivals gate at LAX waitin’ for Steve Carlson to drag his ass out the door. It’s probably a sad commentary on my life and schedule that I’m more awake now then if it was two in the afternoon, but I’m only in town until Sunday and have no intention of wastin’ time sleeping until I’m back in Portland ... Alone.

 ** _Finally._** My heart gives that little lurch you get when you see the person that means absolutely everything to you ... And yeah other parts of my anatomy are doing some lurching of their own, but there’s nothin’ I can do about that until we get home. Steve throws his gear in the back seat of the crew cab, and with a sigh they probably hear in London, settles in the passenger seat.

“How was the flight?”

“Too long ... Too noisy ... Too … Everything. I just want to get home and hide in our obscenely expensive bed and not come out for at least a week.” He rubs his hands over his face.

I knew how he felt. After the whistle stop radio and TV tour I’d done during hiatus, I’d felt the same way, and when I got back to Nashville, we didn’t leave the house for three days.

“Yer in the homestretch now, Hoss. ‘Nother twenty miles and you get yer wish.” I reach across the seat and squeeze his hand. “Fuckin’ missed ya.”

A return squeeze. His tired smile was visible in the dashboard lights.

“Missed you, too, you big sap.”

I growled at the slight to my manhood than ruined the whole thing with a chuckle.

KANE

As soon as we left the airport, Steve had folded up the console, stretched out on the seat as best he could, his cheek resting against my thigh, and promptly fell asleep. Being a man who seldom resists temptation when it comes to Steve Carlson, I let my fingers comb through the sun bleached hair that had grown past his collarbone. I felt him relax.

After all these years, I’m still awestruck to watch him give up everything when I touch him. There’s that lurch again. Except this time there’s something else. The cup of coffee I drank on the way to airport was making its presence known.

 ** _Fuck!_** We’re only a few miles from the house … S ** _urely I can hold it that long?_** My stubborn side kicked into gear.

Except the back of Steve’s head is pressing against my bladder and every pothole and bump became a study in pain, and tryin’ not to piss myself.

Seeing a wide spot heavily shadowed by eucalyptus trees, I pull off the road grateful no tractor-trailers are using the spot to sleep. I do everything I can to keep from waking my sleeping beauty as I slide my coat under his head and slide out of the truck.

As soon as the pressure’s off my bladder, I start looking around to make sure we’re alone. Last thing I need is to have a tweet racing around the Internet about me takin’ a leak on the side of the road, but all I hear are the usual city sounds off in the distance.

Still trying not to wake Steve, I don’t realize the seat’s been pushed back until I have a lapful of blond guitar picker straddlin’ my lap between me and the steering wheel.

 ** _WAIT! WHAT!_** Before I can collect my scattered wits there’s a tongue halfway down my throat and hands halfway down my pants.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much, Kane … Hate goin’ on tour without you …”

Then there were no more words as he was over me like a wet blanket. My body was really into the kissing, nipping, licking, exploring fingers grabbing my dick that was doing its best to escape the confines of my jeans. I had Steve’s jeans pushed down to his knees, two spit covered fingers in his ass when a siren a few blocks away threw cold water over the haze of lust that had taken over my brain.

I took a quick look around, but couldn’t see anything through the steam covered windows. Steve was still doin’ a lap dance on my fingers when I pulled them out to get his attention. A petulant whine was his response to me calling his name.

“Dammit, Kane! What the fuck?” He lifted his head from where it had been on my shoulder.

“We don’t really need to get arrested for lurid acts in public, Carlson.” I started the engine so I could turn on the defroster.

He blinked a few times, his mind clearing as quick as the windows.

“Oh.”

He rested his forehead against mine as we tried to get our bodies under control.

“Yeah.“ I panted, still trying to catch my breath.

Steve straightened and leaned back a little, careful not to lean against the horn, pants still around his knees, cock hard, leaking and begging for my touch. A sly look crossed his face as he leaned forward and let his dick drag over mine as his lips touched my ear.

“Then you better take me home, Cowboy.” He growled low and breathy.

My lizard brain lit up like the 4th of July, and by the time my rational brain was back in control my softened dick pulled out of his ass as I pushed myself off his chest.

Looking down at the debauched blond sprawled wantonly across the front seat of my truck; I zipped my pants and settled behind the wheel ... Pulling the seat forward to its customary position. Steve never moved.

“Crazy motherfucker.” I growled, throwing the truck in gear, to drive the last few miles home.

Have I told you how much I **LOVE** my truck?

~ Fini ~


End file.
